


Catch The Wind

by kaylakaboo



Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: F/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, so sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:20:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22785520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaylakaboo/pseuds/kaylakaboo
Summary: Molly’s got it’s name from a love had, it’s only fitting that love be found there as well.
Relationships: Brian "Otis" Zvonecek/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Catch The Wind

When April suggested drinks to celebrate the new girl surviving her first week at Chicago Med, you had protested. While you did enjoy your new job and the people around you, it had been an exhausting week, but April is nothing if not convincing.

She’s changed your mind before you even get the chance to step outside.

The moment Otis laid eyes on you, he could’ve sworn whatever higher power there is in this world plucked you straight from his dreams and placed you on a Molly’s barstool. He had to ask for your drink order twice because the first time he only saw stardust fall from your lips when you spoke.

He trips over his words and makes a few jokes that don’t quite make sense. You laugh anyways.

He thinks you are magic; you find him endearing.

You find yourself at Molly’s more and more over the next few months. Birthday’s and celebrations, or to mourn the end of a particularly rough day. The kind bartender with the beautiful smile and sarcastic remarks isn’t always there, but you feel warmer when he is.

You don’t think anyone notices.

They do.

It’s almost two months before you learn his name. You had lost a younger patient and you thought what you needed was a very long bath and a glass of wine, but you find yourself under the familiar string lights instead.

“You got a name, kid?” The older bartender asks. You hum a question, having missed his in your haze. “I’ve seen you around here lately, what’s your name?”

“Oh, Y/N.” You respond with a soft smile.

He nods and picks up a glass to wipe down. “Well I’m Herrmann, this guy over here is Otis.”

“Otis?”

He’s quick to jump into the conversation. “It’s just a nickname the guys at the firehouse gave me. My name is actually Brian.”

You laugh, repeat the name again, slower, and tilt your head. “I think I might prefer Brian.”

His heart drops straight to his stomach.

Otis spends the night mostly talking to you, getting as much information about you and your life that you’ll grant him. You’ve never been one to really talk about yourself, so you relish in the tidbits of him he offers up. Most nights Herrmann would bust his balls for ignoring the other customers, but he finds himself caught up the sweet image before him.

You stay until closing that night, leave with your soul a little lighter. Herrmann gives Otis the decency of waiting until the door closes before berating him with questions.

“So,” He prompts. “Did you get her number?”

Otis scrunches his face. “That girl? Uh- no. I’d rather not have my already small ego crushed.”

“She was totally in to you!” Joe exclaims.

“We had a nice conversation, there’s a difference.”

He thinks you’re untouchable; you find butterflies in your stomach.

Days and weeks and months pass with nothing more than innocent conversations and delicate fingers grazing arms. Herrmann chastises him for choosing to flirt over doing his job, Joe swears he’s going to lose his mind if he has to hear about you anymore.

It’s not for a lack of you trying, you drop the odd hint, but he doesn’t seem to pick them up. One night you leave an open invitation for him to join you at a charity event at Med, but he doesn’t seem interested. You drop it, leave with only a quiet smile soon after.

“She invited you to go with her!” Joe explodes.

“No, she said she had no one to go with.”

If Joe had any hair, he’d rip it out. 

The next morning at work, he calls for an emergency meeting with Herrmann and Sylvie. They fill her in on the situation, but most of it she already knew, she wasn’t blind. They spend the next few hours devising a plan, getting input from those around the firehouse.

They rope in Kelly who ropes in April who ropes in Maggie who guilts Will into giving up his tickets to the fundraising gala. He didn’t need them as much as they did.

Sylvie presents them to Otis and feeds him a story about Med inviting paramedics as well because they’re at the hospital so often. He thinks she’s too jittery for the request and her eyes keep shifting, something she does when she lies. He’s about to turn her down when she reminds him that he owes her for shrinking her favorite sweater.

Standing there in a suit, tugging at the collar chafing the skin of his throat, he has never hated laundry day or flimsy sweaters more in his life. He also wasn’t too keen on the way too small ‘appetizers’ and pretentious drinks. He’d honestly give anything for a simple beer right about now.

He looks down at his watch, wondering what could possibly be taking Sylvie so long, looks up, and everything fades out the second he recognizes you. The five-string quartet, the small talk conversations between peppered haired men, the lingering sweet scent from the gardenias.

You with your hair pinned up, small wisps of hair framing your face, and wrapped in a swooping teal fabric that leaves your shoulders bare. When you see him, you shoot him a dazzling smile and motion for him to wait for you and it’s then he knows he’s a goner.

You give him a quick hug, hoping it’s not out of place. “Brian! I didn’t think I’d see you here!”

The smell of your perfume fogs his thoughts. “Sylvie guilted me.” He manages.

You laugh. “I wonder who she had to bribe to get the ticket. I was a neonatal nurse before, that’s how I got mine.” Otis furrows his brows in confusion and you mirror his face. “The board is trying to raise money to build a specialty wing for premature babies.” You clarify.

That’s when it clicks. The hushed whispers around the house, the silence once he’d turn a corner, Sylvie’s absence, Joe’s eagerness, Herrmann’s out of place words of encouragement. He had to give it to them, scheming wasn’t generally their strong suit, but they had truly gotten him this time.

He’d leave just to spite them, but he definitely couldn’t leave you alone, not with you smiling at him like this.

Instead, he digs into his small arsenal of confidence and starts to ask you questions. You explain the goals of the fundraiser, and what you really think they should do with the money. He shares your heartache when you speak of babies you tried your hardest to save and couldn’t. He joins you in laughter when you tell tales of drunken clowns in the ER. You listen as he tells you stories of daring rescues and witnessed miracles.

He thinks you are brilliant; you find his bravery inspiring.

You forget you were there for a purpose, but you would rather spend all night wrapped in conversation with him than stroking the egos of millionaires anyways. He forgets Sylvie was actually there, but she shoots him a thumbs up from across the room

He’s not sure how it happened. He had asked if he could walk you to your car, you took his hand and led him outside, and now you were backed up against your car trailing perfectly manicured fingers up his tie. With heavy lids, he holds his breath as you pull him closer. Soft lips and strawberry tongue, he wonders why the hell he waited so long.

You pull away and wipe the lipstick from the corner of his mouth, breathe out a soft laugh and he smiles.

“Little overdue.” He quips.

“Well worth the wait.” You add.

He’s completely smitten and so are you.

**Author's Note:**

> Request: … can I request an imagine where he has a massive crush on a nurse who works at Med and frequents Molly’s and he thinks she’s out of his league so Fire House 51 decides to prove him wrong and not so subtly get them together?
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr! kayla-kaboo


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